The Devil and Uchiha Itachi
by Rot-Chan
Summary: In loneliness and yearning, Itachi makes a deal with the Devil for Shisui to give him unwavering feelings - for a price. But when love becomes obsession and obsession becomes delirium, Itachi will realize what he has to give in return. Shisui/Itachi; smut
1. The Deal

"**The Devil and Uchiha Itachi"**

**Author**: Shelby

**Pairings**: ShisuixItachi

**Rating**: T (15+)

**Summary**: The masked man grins. "I go by Madara. I work for Old Scratch. Or maybe you could call him the Devil." Itachi makes a deal with the devil, but cannot understand the price to pay until he stands over Shisui's lifeless body in the water. Shisui/Itachi; yaoi.

**::A/N:: **based on the great short story "The Devil and Tom Walker". I got inspired to write a faust-like fic with a different twist. This also reminds me of the film _The Craft_, where one of the witches casts a love spell on a boy who hates her and makes him love her obsessively. Hope you enjoy. Review? (Revue? French!)

* * *

Spindly, towering trees shadow Itachi's path.

The light peeks through the forest, dappled against his skin. Itachi looks at his wrist as he walks, sees his pale flesh and bruised blue tendons, a tiny freckle, a scar. Crows caw out in the distance, the discordant, cries piercing the twilight air.

The short cut is not unused by the children who live as Uchiha. They travel back from the Academy in giggling groups, clutching their bags across and winding their way through the deep woods towards the solitary compound, following old shuriken and kunai embedded in trees as their guide.

Itachi lingers. Why did he choose this path? He does not _want_ to return home. He stands in a clearing, a small area where the trees loom above him. It is almost July, only two weeks left until....

Something stirs.

Itachi grips his kunai, turns...

...and is met face-to-face with a very odd man. He is tall in stature, his shoulders broad, wiry muscle visible beneath black clothes. His hair hangs long and unkempt, cascading down his shoulders as dark as soot; he wears no shoes upon his feet, his gloves are ragged - but it is the mask that is so unsettling. Rusty orange with curling black flames.

"This forest is of the Uchiha. What right do you have to enter?" Itachi is unafraid. He has nothing to fear of a ridiculous intruder, a stranger. The man stands still, somber and elegant. A rouge shinobi, perhaps?

"Your name...is Uchiha Itachi?" His voice rumbles within his chest, rough yet smooth like honey. Itachi gazes onward.

"What business do you have with me?" Itachi asks solemnly. A light breeze makes the trees sway pleasantly, a thousand tiny leaves chorusing together in hushed whispers.

The man is smiling beneath the mask. "You are a very, very unhappy boy." A heavy silence fills the air, and Itachi frowns. "...Aren't you?" The masked man chuckles and leans against the trunk of an old oak tree. His capricious attitude, his bizarre manner - it's unnerving.

"You see - do you know who I am?" He asks, taking out a knife with a handcrafted handle, rusted with blood. Itachi says nothing.

"I can sense that you are in need of my services. I go by Madara. I work for...Old Scratch. Or maybe you can call him the Devil."

Itachi stills. He does not understand. The words reach him but they glide over his skin, unable to sink in. He can sense a strange power, a chakra tainted - but he cannot listen to lies, and has no time for foolishness. "I must be on my way. My parents will worry," Itachi says offhandedly, turning to walk deeper into forest towards "home."

"But what about Shisui?" Madara asks innocently. Itachi pauses.

"Yes. Of _course_ I know about Shisui. How could I not? You're captivated by him." Itachi's heart beats in his throat, for this secret, protected and guarded from everyone else, is unable to be seen through his actions or words -

"I know. I understand." Suddenly the man stands before him, stares down upon his face with that single chilling eye. Another grin. "Try to remember." Madara places a hand on Itachi's shoulder.

And suddenly there is Shisui with _that girl._

Itachi can see them giggling and blushing as they met in the back streets in secret. A memory splayed out before him, vivid and clear. Itachi can only use his eyes, undeniably and always cognizant, to drink in Shisui smoothing her hair, a blush splashed across her cheeks, their lips meeting in a kiss.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" The demon says. A chagrin fueled by the anguish bubbles in Itachi's chest, because it is all this man's fault that he saw it, _lived_ it twice.

Madara turns his head slightly, taps his chin. "I'm sure I can think of something to make this work. But I suppose I'll need your confidentiality first." Itachi stares, crimson burning holes through the copper.

"As if I would tell anyone about a delusion. I'm obviously seeing things," Itachi murmurs sensibly. "Now let me go home."

The demon sighs. "Well, I suppose that's good enough. Itachi - you're _infatuated_ with him, aren't you? So make a deal with me." Madara murmurs, a voice hushed with darkness. "I can make him like you - no, love you." It's said softly as if it was a secret.

Itachi is confused by love. He has never witnessed it before in his own circumstances, or his parents' for that matter...and Shisui _cannot_ love that girl....

"But he can," Madara says gravely, and Itachi feels his stomach fall to his feet and hurtle back to place.

"How did you...."

"The details, boy, aren't important. I just need your trust. So what do you say?" Madara says, his voice sweet and jovial.

Itachi wonders. Wonders what it would be like if Shisui talked to him, smiled at him, was with him differently...changed. _Wonderful_. "All right. I'll do it. I want to see what happens," Itachi says slowly and dubiously, sure that this is a charlatan's game - but the idea still thrills him.

"I should mention that there's always an eye for an eye...." Madara chuckles from his play on words as the boy with the sharigan stares warily. But it is no matter. Itachi feels avarice ooze from his pores. He wants a feeling, an incomprehensible feeling but a real one all the same, between Shisui and him - like love. Nothing else matters - should it?

"Nothing else matters," Itachi echoes his thoughts. He stares stonily at the ground.

Madara smiles. "Good boy. Let's shake on it, shall we?" Another cheshire grin. Their hands intertwine, and Itachi feels a shadow creeping under his skin, embedding there, slipping through that palm into his, infecting him. Making him good enough.

Itachi releases the hand, stares at his own and shivers. Madara bows. "Must be on my way now. I'm quite the busy man....Well go on home, now. Go on."

Itachi feels an utterly immense darkness; the wind howls. Itachi turns away. He walks between the trees, forcing himself to stare ahead. For what if he looks back, and the man is there, and that was all _real_?

He walks home for supper. The trees seem taller, their scraggly branches hidden beneath leaves curled as if they will reach out and grab him. Itachi walks faster. A breeze cools his heated skin. At his sides his hands shake with strange feelings of dismay.

The shoji door slowly slides open for him. Sasuke sits at the table; Mother washes dishes in the sink, granules of sugar and grapefruit pulp sliding down the disposal; Father summarizes a mission for his platoon. Itachi examines his cauliflower. He doesn't touch anything on his plate. No one remembers he is late.

* * *

"Itachi! Wait up, a second."

Itachi turns and sees Shisui. His charcoal eyes and hair, his black shirt marked with their crest, his bandaged ankles. Itachi is unable to meet his gaze. They stand inside the head quarters of the Police Force. Shinobi busily confer with one another, giving reports and receiving some.

The Uchiha is going to walk home. His muscle ache from a day of training; tomorrow he is expected to attend one of the first meetings for ANBU. When Itachi ponders over conversing with his squad, something odd settles deeply within his chest. _Indifference_.

"I was wondering if we could, you know, hang out later." Shisui smiles pleasantly. Itachi's heart turns. This is not the familiar request to train or help with shuriken jutsu. Other Uchiha push past them and walk out of the head quarters, the wooden doors squeaking and groaning.

Itachi can remember when he was eight and Shisui was nine, and there was a strange innocence that was unresolved between them. A fleeting feeling to carry them through bloodshed and war. And now they encounter one another again with that similar feeling of demureness, but...it's _lighter_ somehow, and the air crackles with an invisible current of electricity.

"Of course. I-If I have the time." Itachi manages, clutching the mission reports in his hand.

Shisui smiles, trails his fingers over the Uchiha's hand. He whispers in his ear, warm breath ghosting Itachi's cheek, "I hope so."

///

When Itachi goes home that night, he can still feel Shisui's touch on his palm. He doesn't sleep. The breeze rushes in through his open window; the sheets are balled up on the floor. Sleeping - trying to sleep - is pointless. He doesn't want to see that masked face in his dreams. It haunts him enough while awake.

* * *

Shisui swims in the pond, rocks slick from moss underfoot. Water skirters glide; the surface is disturbed by a flock of sandpipers. Itachi sits on the dock, the air muggy, tiny mosquitos buzzing near the shore. Itachi makes a cross with his nail on an itchy bump near his thigh. He is back from his squad meeting. They always swim together in the summertime. They are the closest of friends. _Friends_.

Shisui dives beneath the surface and remerges grinning and breathless. Something is changed.

"Get in!" Shisui calls. His shirt, a wet bundle, lies on a rock on the sandy banks.

"That's fine." Itachi doesn't like water. It's _smothering_. And he's thinking too much. He's sure if he goes under he will forget the need to breathe.

_'I go by Madara. I work for...Old Scratch. Or maybe you can call him the Devil.'_

Shisui swims to the waterfront. He walks on the dock, wet feet leaving prints on the dry wood, and sits beside his friend. Shisui swings his feet listlessly and says, "You should get in. It's about a thousand degrees out. And look - you're wearing black. Aren't you _dying_?"

It suddenly feels uncomfortably warm. Itachi feels like he is suffocating from the heat and something else. The shirt clings to his back.

Itachi lifts bony arms and the shirt glides over skin unseen to the sun. It pools around his wrists. Itachi stares at their distorted reflections and hesitantly puts an ankle in the cool water. He wants to slowly sink beneath and never return.

"Better, right?" Shisui smiles. Itachi notices the water making rivulets down his pale cheek; his dark hair messy against his forehead; his arms hanging at his sides in an almost gangly way that came with the awkwardness of adolescence, of being 14. Itachi shivers.

The older boy traces goosebumps on the younger boy's skin. A voice rings in his head. _'You're rather... __infatuated__ with him, aren't you? So make a deal with me.'_

Itachi wants the water to swallow him. His ankle sinks deeper. Why can't he accept what he was given? Could the water truly take him to a bottomless place where he wouldn't be found, away from this wish?

_I can't disappear. _Shisui's bony fingers glide over his cheek._ Maybe I can, _Itachi realizes as Shisui's chapped lips press against his own,_ if the water is deep enough._

But, it isn't.

* * *

**End note:** how was chapter 1? I was thinking maybe one or two more chapters. If you haven't ever read the Devil and Tom Walker, the story is basically that Tom Walker makes a deal with the devil to be rich, get treasure, etc. but his soul is taken later when he's old. So anyway...I hope for fans of the story, or for people who have read it, you liked my take.

**Review? I appreciate them. They're the best. :)**

_-Shelby _


	2. The Desire

**"The Devil and Uchiha Itachi"**

**Author**: Shelby

**Pairings**: ShisuixItachi

**Rating**: T (15/16+)

**Summary**: The masked man grins. "I go by Madara. I work for Old Scratch. Or maybe you could call him the Devil." Itachi makes a deal with the devil, but cannot understand the price to pay until he stands over Shisui's lifeless body in the water. Shisui/Itachi; yaoi.

**::A/N:: **Much thanks and appreciation to reviewers **WinglessFallenAngel** and **Tainted-reflection-126**. You two are great, and offered a lot of helpful feedback. This chapter includes some smut, and BL. To all readers: I hope you enjoy. Review? (Revue? French!)

* * *

The forest haunts Itachi.

He walks the normal path, from the compound to the gate, and will avoid the short cut. It has been almost 48 hours since he last slept. His eyes are bruised and watery, sensitive to the unrelenting sun.

But Shisui is waiting for him. Itachi frowns when Shisui smiles and walks in step with him. _He cannot be broken_, the Uchiha thinks. Nothing will break the delirious happiness that Shisui is trapped in. _And it's my fault...._

"I _knew_ you were gonna pick up your little brother 'bout know," Shisui says, swinging his arms back and forth. A flock of birds suddenly take flight from a tree deep within the woods, tiny black dots exploding into the blue sky.

They walk on the path between the forest, the cleared dirt road taken only by Uchiha.

"Come on. I know a short cut," Shisui smiles and tugs Itachi's hand, taking him into the woods at the fork in the path. Itachi's heart pulses unevenly. That man's face came to mind; the ugly orange streaked with black – or was it blood, rusted and deep brown, smeared on?

But it is silly, _stupid_ to fear a forest at noontime. He allows Shisui to take him through almost to assure himself that there is nothing to fear. That the person he saw was simply an allusion.

When the reach the thicket, Shisui turns, moving too quickly for the normal eye to process. Itachi feels his shoulder blades connect with the earth; the lack of rest has taken a toll on his reflexes, his ability, his _mind_. He cannot think clearly. But his sharingan whirls on its own accord to make up for his lack of defenses and the world is suddenly turned inside-out, all color inverted.

But the the air around Shisui - it stops Itachi - this warmth, burning and limitless...._Lust_.

Itachi watches Shisui hover above him. He doesn't push him away. Shisui's forearm brushes against his and a jolt wracks Itachi's spine. A voice whispers within, his own voice this time._ This is what you wanted...._

An almost unbearable heat wraps around him, a warm and fiery chakra threaded with ice – undeniably Shisui's – as the older boy presses his lips to his throat, biting down gently and licking his pallid skin.

Itachi slowly closes his eyes and opens them. The world is again filled with vibrant sky blue and the yellows and greens of leaves. His fingers thread through Shisui's tousled hair, gripping almost painfully when their lips meet in a fervent kiss unlike the chaste graze on the dock.

_Why__ are you doing this?_ Itachi wonders, considering pushing Shisui away. But the feeling of his lips gliding against his own is somehow soothing. 'Calm'.

Itachi allows them both to indulge in such a shallow pleasure. He lets himself slowly fade and no longer be important, the captain, who he once was 10 minutes ago. He feels Shisui's tongue exploring, the calloused fingers tilting his jaw, the teeth nibbling at his lower lip. Itachi is _no one_. He wishes to be this nothing for as long as he possibly can, and Shisui presses his hips into his and a different heat is shared between them, and the world is tilted on its axis much too far....

They pull away. Saliva pools in the corners of Shisui's mouth. Itachi wipes his chin.

_This is wrong._

Itachi is transfigured – his chest heaving, breathless, his eyes glazed, knuckles turning white from clawing at the dirt - but this is eluded by a strange kind of calmness. Itachi leans on his elbows, and Shisui is reluctantly pushed back.

"Good-bye Shisui. I must get going. I'm already late."

_What happened to that girl? Why me?_

Shisui is startled. He wants more, doesn't know why he wants more, but _still wants to feel more._

"...Will you come back?"

Itachi stares. " Sasuke is waiting."

* * *

Training becomes difficult for Itachi.

Shisui always happens to come by. There is no avoiding him. Itachi is wary, unsure. Afraid. He is not one to feel or admit to fear, but something is different about his friend. Has been, ever since....

They spar on barren training grounds at dusk, long after everyone has gone. Itachi agrees to help Shisui; within he secretly wishes for things to return to how the were only three weeks before, without this bizarre and..._forced connection_ between them. Their sharigans blaze, determined poppy battling crimson. Shuriken and kunai knives stick up from the ground like ugly black weeds.

But the fights always end the same, in a haunting masquerade - Shisui captures Itachi's lips, roughly shoves his tongue into his mouth, presses a knee between the Uchiha's legs. Shisui grows bolder each time; he pins the Uchiha's arms against the rough bark of the tree, lifts his shirt above and ghosts his palms over his chest. And Itachi lets him, for undeniably the feelings of acceptance, need, lust grow pleasantly, and are intoxicating.

It is Sunday, and Itachi really should be returning home, talking to Sasuke about homework, helping Mother with the dishes, blocking Father out....

But Shisui threads his fingers through the Uchiha's pony tail, giving a slight tug and letting his locks free. He entwines his spindly fingers between strands of hair dusty from the ground beneath them. They are too-close, their breath mingling and Itachi's chest slightly brushing over the boy's above him.

"I...can make you feel good," Shisui says in a gravelly voice against Itachi's collarbone. Itachi's heart rips out of place and crawls up his throat, strangling him.

"No."

Shisui presses his lips to Itachi's, tilts his chin and grins against the kiss. "You always think too much."

Shisui presses against Itachi – no space lingering between their bodies – and parts the Uchiha's legs with his knee.

And suddenly Shisui moves, close – _too close, too close,_ a blurry voice screams in Itachi's subconscious – and rubs against him. Itachi's scalp fingers arms calves abdomen legs tingle with weird anticipation, something that both repulses and intrigues him.

Shisui presses his lips to Itachi's throat, nibbles his neck, jawline, ear; and he is pleased by the subtle reactions he receives with each roll of his hips against the Uchiha's, each time they rub against each other - the very small and almost unnoticeable catch of breath, a tiny groan held back, nails pressed into his shoulder blades. He only wants to be with Itachi.

The pace is slowly increased, and Itachi feels his throat catch aflame, a searing fire traveling down in curling tendrils to the tips of his fingers, to his legs, to settle like a thousand tangled threads in his stomach.

"Feels...good...right?"

But Itachi can't find his voice, doesn't want to find his voice, has been reduced to needing wanting yearning for only this indescribable feeling, is humiliated by this state Shisui has put him in -

- And unexpectedly, the threads untangle and explode, tiny fibers of heat -_and it feels so good, why does it feel this way? _- attacking every nerve in Itachi's body; Shisui roughly presses his hips into him again and suddenly shudders and moans against his throat and then it is over.

"I...I love...you," Shisui manages between quiet heavy breaths against Itachi's neck.

The shell of doubting and fear and worry and anxiety and guilt, at least for this time being, melt from Itachi's body, freeing him. And Itachi knows it is wrong to go against his closest friend, to bind him in this unreasonable contract written in blood, but -

_He loves you. He loves you. He loves you. _

Sinning is sagacious.

* * *

The red, glowing numbers read 12:42. Itachi has been sleeping restlessly, on and off. Perhaps it is stress from ANBU, the demands from Father, the constant ragged hole that gapes in his chest that symbolizes the lack of meaning of living....

But he cannot make up excuses for insomnia. It's wonder, curiousness, confusion, worry, _fantasy_. And Shisui is in almost all of it.

Itachi imagines Shisui constantly by his side; always wanting to kiss him, hold hands, to be so carefree and cliche; always make him..."feel good". This memory, for some reason unknown, makes the Uchiha's face grow warm, though he mentally scolds himself for losing his stoic hold on his emotions.

But he is worrisome; through all the thoughts of possibility and desire, Itachi cannot deny that he worries. He imagines, forces images in his mind of Shisui suddenly....reverting. Going back to the way things were before. Everything unravelling and falling apart and ruining this - _what is this?_

Itachi's throat feels thick, as if he swallowed a stone. That man's face suddenly comes to mind - the man who can, somehow, read thoughts, feel emotions..._inhuman_. Who is perhaps as demonic as he claims.

The Uchiha leans over to his nightstand, feels around in the dark for the cord to the digital clock, and with satisfaction watches the red numbers fade. The stone in his throat doubles in size.

He is going to return to that place, the meeting place, deep within the forest.

* * *

**End Note**: this chapter was a bit difficult to write, but the last part is going to lead me up to an eventful chapter 3. I hope you liked the yaoi. I really don't like writing yaoi most of the time - I'm not one of those yaoi fan girls or anything - but the idea of Shisui/Itachi seems original to me. So I had to write a little smut for my readers, who I know enjoy it, at least some what.

**Review. I appreciate them. Finals are so stressful and they make me happy! :)**

_-Shelby _


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